


stream of consciousness

by alwayslimerent



Category: journaling - Fandom, random - Fandom
Genre: Journaling, Other, Random - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-10-30 18:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17833883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayslimerent/pseuds/alwayslimerent
Summary: thoughts from a brain, that usually occur when nobody is paying attention. sometimes those thoughts are the most important.





	1. december 28, 2018

i think we go too far in life worrying - sometimes you need a pill to pause that. sometimes a pill is a snap back to reality from society.

sometimes a home isn't a place. it's a person. and with that, you'll take anything. that's why they don't understand. sometimes when you see the ring, you'll take anything. 

everything is beautiful when you're with the person you call home. 


	2. january 6, 2019

i think why i was scared of mirrors when i loved you was because i was already afraid of the foreboding truth that they stole my identity; for all those nights i went to bed alone and you went to bed with her...

i still close my mirrors. i think that is still the only thing left of me that you still see.

i think i still close my mirrors even when i'm with the man i'll marry - because i was you and you were me and i don't ever want you creeping back again. i'm also scared of ever having the opportunity to ever acknowledge the person i was when i was with you ever existed.


	3. february 4, 2019

i wonder if mercury is tired of rotating so much around space while mars is just there, not really noticing anything. while he's in the cigar room, you're expected to i guess go play dress up and talk about feminine things. things are just being put back in boxes, it feels like. it shouldn't feel this way. so your voice gets thrown into the void. and who hears it? you don't know. there's times like these where you just need a minute to think - sometimes just a minute. any longer, and you're down a rabbit hole. 


	4. february 5, 2019

i don't think it's a coincidence that where i'm at now is surrounded by one-way streets. those cars just keep passing, until they see a green light, once it comes eventually. no cars come back though. i guess that's a bad way of putting it though.

i don't really know what i'm thinking. a lot of the times i try to wonder that very thing. and whether those thoughts have any value. if you put those thoughts on a piece of paper, they just end up flying in the wind. and down the fucking drain. a note played or a chord strung or a lyric written that's dear to your heart and whispers to your soul in the travels of time just ends up in the wind too. flying over their head and drowned out by high-hat beats played by the click of a button and a lit blunt with some drunk fuck mumbling about a night he'll never remember. 

i guess you're expected to just pick up the pieces of your own mess and move on. who gives a fuck about where the storm came from, the real problem i guess is how you deal with your house being torn apart. storms don't apologize, shit just happens. i think that's what we were meant to realize.

but people aren't storms. tornadoes and tsunamis can't think before they destruct. storms aren't as complex as us, and i think that's a blessing as well as curse. curse - because the storm doesn't give a fuck about your home and your dog that you've had since first grade and your prom dress and the only photo that you have of your great-grandmother. the same way the sun doesn't give a single fuck about the earth - no matter how many times earth has rotated around the sun, it still stays because of the mere warmth and sunshine - that the sun would still have if the earth just fucked off and was left there to shrivel. blessing - because if storms were complex as us, then the world would have ended as soon as it began. if we would still even be here, we would have been more royally fucked than ever before. 

what do i know though? all i do is fuck around and lollygag, and talk about mascara and zodiac signs. and even then, all those things near and dear are thrown into the pile of shit that is the void we're all aimlessly floating on. 


	5. february 9, 2019

do you ever feel invisible in a room full of people? all those people appear that they have it together - they knit, they paint, they play sports - and they're all good at it too. they've got their trophies and bragging rights. 

makes you think, doesn't it? about when you were a kid and you were making characters and movies with dolls and you had a video camera and doing all the things that made a kid with no friends and no siblings shut up and channel out the world and pretend it never existed until your mother called you inside for dinner.  makes you think, in those moments of not knowing what to do - when you've written all those papers and studied for everything you could and you're scrounging up change for the next textbook and you don't know how you're gonna make money, you don't know what to do to make that time pass until it's time for dinner. because as you grow old, you have thoughts that you've never had as a kid. and you've written so many papers and taken so many tests and spent so much money on food to live that you don't know how to make that time pass anymore and for those thoughts to go away. 

i think that's what they mean by the death of childhood. those days in the backyard with the video camera seemed a lot sunnier and the winters seemed a lot shorter. and even then, we still had something to do on a sunny day. 


	6. february 26, 2019

do you ever just feel so stuck in a slump that you can't get out of? time is passing you by but mercury is pulling you backward. only in the night can you truly escape from how much you've screwed yourself over, the deepest pits of despair that speak from your mind. they told you to speak your mind as a child. but they also told you to be kind to yourself. they told you that you could go anywhere you wantd to. except for this. except for that. they told you that it'll stop one day. ten years later, and you're still waiting. you're just not scared to numb the pain anymore. today, you're just desperate to find a way to survive until tomorrow. 


	7. february 28, 2019

and here the tears come again. to where my eyes are burning and sunken in, and my nose is chapped and burned and cherry red. another night alone in a room. to where you don't feel as lonely because you can hear the neighbors. but they wouldn't are to know what you're doing. 

i pray i won't do something stupid. and it feels even more stupid because i have never been more ashamed to write anything than i have right now. to even write these words. 

who even listens, though? or is it just an echo in the void that gets dismissed?

i'm not a computer, i'm a living breathing being with a heart that bleeds love and a soul that's been scorned. a side character of my own story. 

what stops you from asking for help, they ask. you were brought up never asking for help, though. a strong independent girl is also a stubborn one, one who can lift salt bags and heavy things and do things on her own. one who can perform many tasks all at once to the brink of a heart attack. a breath of fresh air is just a breath of laziness. one who has successfully talked herself out of a noose multiple times. what makes me think i can't do it again, if those thoughts from gloomy sunday tunes creep back in?

also begs the question of whether anybody actually has the desire to  _listen._ or do they have to have the plaque and be paid the daily dollar...

what happens when you haven't taken a shower in four days, when it's too overbearing to take out the trash you haven't taken out in a week, when the thing you loved the most and never fail to do every day exhausts you to even think about, when all you can do is sit alone in a room - wiping your tears, and hoping the pain will at least die down soon. 

the fuck with it i don't even know what i'm writing anymore

 

 


	8. march 4, 2019

you were frightened in your dream

which brought me to wake,

i saw the devil on the wall - i saw his wrath red all around me, red as his face when he shook my juvenile body

 

please hold my body tightly as i travel through my past in this fog cloud,

memories i don't want to remember

they bring tears to my eyesm- 

the veins in my neck

his face so red

drowning 

all the people i'm mourning

 

you were frightened in your dream

which brought me to wake


	9. march 11, 2019

why is it so hard for me to talk to people? why can't i just snap the fuck out of it? why do i have to isolate myself all the time? perhaps i'm doing everybody a faor by staying inside. my talks of rock and roll and tarot go through the masses' ears and out the other. my talks of my desires and my fears and my passions get brushed off, like sand that washes away with the sea. my existence is a time blip and leaves no footprints. so why even bother? i am just as much blended into cedar blocks in the wall with the crowd as i am alone. only i can hear my own screams, desperate for a hand, desperate for somebody -  _anybody -_ to hear.

there's times like these where i get so frustrated at myself. then it goes in circles. why is it so hard for me to talk to people?  _freak. trying too hard to get everybody to like her. eccentric. annoying. obnoxious. loud. too quiet. always there._

those are the words my mind tells me as soon as i take my first breath of spring air - the words of cold, dreary, winter winds. i don't make money, i don't support myself - so really i'm just breathing oxygen on the mere 1% hope that i'm going to matter on this planet as a person. 

i was raised to keep quiet. if i disagreed then i was disowned. i was raised thinking my thoughts, my ideas, my ways - did not matter and have no significance in this world other than to rile people up and pretend that i do have significance in this world. 

the world is rigged, i learned. which only supported my mind's claims even more. 

 _attention-seeker._ i am proving my point that i am not by staying in this cold, dark room, instead of outdoors. so i don't have to bother anybody. so i don't even have to face the thought of fucking up for the millionth time. so i can just sleep to forget my pointless existence on this planet. 


	10. march 15, 2019

trees grow and grow but however, eventually they whither away. 

some trees are some you'd only see in movies - the limbs watch over you, the oxygen breathing down your neck until you hopefully grow as tall as them. other trees are rugged, branches are missing, leaves are ever-changing. 

some trees are dead. they've tried and tried to grow for so long that eventually they give up - surrenduring to fate, sucumbing to winter's kiss. 

some trees do unforgiveable things.

some trees grow apart. 

some trees desperately want to grow far away. 

 

when lovers caress each other to the swan song, it's up to the trees to make a home for a love so pure. 


End file.
